{"product_id":"9781420100495","title":"Cold Hearted","description":"\u003cb\u003eTrusting Her.  .  .\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  They all loved her. That was their mistake. Two husbands, her college fiancé, an influential boss--every man who gets close to Jordan Price is made to pay in blood. And the list is growing.  .  .  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cb\u003eCould Be.  .  .\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  Hired by the Powell Agency to investigate Senator Dan Price's death, Rick Carson can see at once why people would believe Jordan Price incapable of cold-blooded murder. Slender, pale, and elegant, she stands by her late husband's graveside exuding sweet vulnerability. Only Rick notices that she never sheds a tear. And the deeper he delves into the string of deaths from which Jordan has profited handsomely, the more convinced Rick becomes that he is dealing with a callous, cunning, unstoppable killer.  .  .  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cb\u003eThe Last Thing You Ever Do.  .  .\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  The closer Rick gets to the chilling truth, the more dangerous this game of cat-and-mouse becomes. The targets are changing, and suddenly, nothing and no one is safe. If Jordan is as innocent as she claims, Rick may have placed her in a killer's cross hairs. And if she's guilty, he'll never live to regret it.  .  .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cb\u003ePrologue\u003c\/b\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  Perhaps the best thing he could do for himself and everyone  he loved was to commit suicide.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan Price stared at the Glock pistol lying atop his desk.  He had bought the 9mm automatic for his wife, but she  had refused the gift, politely reminding him of her aversion  to guns. But at his insistence, she had gone with him  to the practice range and learned to use the weapon, only  to please him. But to his knowledge, she had never carried  the pistol, never kept it in her room or in her car.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    If his sweet Jordan had any idea that he was contemplating  taking his own life, she would do her best to convince  him that no matter what the future held, she would  stand by him. It was her basic integrity and loyalty that  had first attracted him to the woman who had become his  greatest political asset.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan lifted the half-full glass of Kentucky bourbon to  his lips and finished off the remainder. The liquor burned  a path down his esophagus and hit his belly like fire. He  coughed a couple of times, then wiped his mouth, picked  up the bottle, and poured himself another drink.  If he was going to do this--and he fully intended to  end his life tonight--he knew he couldn't do it stone cold  sober. He wasn't that courageous. Before he could put the  hammer-forged barrel into his mouth and pull the trigger,  he needed to be more than a little drunk.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He sipped on the bourbon as he leaned back in the swivel  desk chair and let his gaze travel over the room. His private  study, as it had been his father's and grandfather's before  him. An impressive room inside a 200-year-old  antebellum mansion, part of an estate that had been in his  family since before the War Between the States. Generations  of Price men had served their country, first in wartime  and then in local, state, and national politics. In Georgia,  the name Price was synonymous with public service.  If he killed himself, how would that affect his family's  good name? No Price man had ever taken the easy way  out of a bad situation. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      But could he continue, knowing what the future held for  him? Could he condemn Jordan to such a life? And what  about Devon? And his brother, Ryan? They would never  desert him, and that would mean great sacrifices for each  of them.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003ci\u003e  You don't have to do this tonight. You have time.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    But how much time? Six months? A year?  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan finished off his second drink and poured himself a  third. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      The grandfather clock in the hall struck twice. Two in  the morning.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He unlocked the file cabinet in the bottom drawer of  the desk, rummaged through the folders until he found  the file he wanted. A copy of his will. His lawyer kept another  copy and a third was inside his safe at the house in  Bethesda. The contents of his will were not secret to anyone.  Everything he possessed would be equally divided  among Jordan, Devon and Ryan. Jordan had protested, telling him that she didn't expect such an enormous legacy,  but he had quieted her protests with a tender caress. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      \"I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay,\" he'd  told her.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Dan finished off his third drink. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      Minutes ticked by as he contemplated the Glock on his  desk. Grandfather Price's antique desk. Family lore claimed  the desk had belonged to Jefferson Davis, a contemporary  of his ancestor, General John Ryan Price. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      Dan poured another glass of bourbon, picked up the  bottle and the glass and walked over to the leather Chesterfield  sofa. He sat down, placed the bottle on the floor, and  considered his options. Death was preferable to the fate  that awaited him. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      Dan's eyelids flicked open and shut. In the twilight  zone of being half-awake\/half-asleep, he didn't immediately  realize where he was or what had awakened him so  abruptly. Woozy from sleep and too much bourbon, Dan  recalled that he had contemplated suicide to solve his problems,  but in the end, drunk and, oddly enough, thinking  more clearly than he had when he'd been sober, he had  realized that killing himself would have been the coward's  way out. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      Dan swatted at something cold against his cheek. His  fingertips raked across the metal object. He opened his eyes  fully, stared up at the woman leaning over him, and smiled.  She did not return his smile. His gaze zipped from her familiar  face to his own hand holding the 9mm, its barrel  pressed firmly against his head. And it was only when he  tried to ease the gun away from his head that he realized  her hand covered his, her index finger squeezed tightly  over his against the trigger. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      \"What the--!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      Before he could react, she forced his finger down against  the trigger, firing the gun at point blank range directly into  his brain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  Dan's last thought was that someone he'd trusted completely  had just killed him.","brand":"Beverly Barton","offers":[{"title":"Paperback \/ softback Mass market (rack) paperback","offer_id":42579531202720,"sku":"9781420100495","price":5.0,"currency_code":"CAD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0582\/8637\/5072\/products\/BNCImageAPI_35f21b37-547d-45c2-a6c9-bccb4bf28ce1.jpg?v=1663537091","url":"https:\/\/rivendell-books.com\/products\/9781420100495","provider":"Rivendell Books ","version":"1.0","type":"link"}